“Okay!” Laurie said with enthusiasm while clapping her hands. “What do you all say to the idea of a little dinner?”
“It’s about time,” Dorothy said. But to her credit, she got up off the couch with the intention of lending a hand.
Jack felt an irresistible urge to get out and do something, and the most accessible form of relief was basketball. With Sheldon still glued to the television and Dorothy finding things to do with Laurie, Jack went up to the bedroom and changed into his exercise gear. He knew Laurie would not be happy, but he felt it was a matter of self-preservation. He trusted she’d get over it if he didn’t participate in the meal preparations.
Ten minutes later, as Jack was crossing 106th Street, he felt like a new man. When he arrived at the playground he could see that Warren was already playing, and as usual had managed to get himself on a solid team, suggesting that he’d probably be playing the entire evening. Unfortunately, Jack had arrived too late for Warren to choose him.
Intending to run in place and do some calisthenics after he figured out how he was going to get into the game, Jack joined the group of people standing on the sidelines. Quickly he found out that Flash, his other close basketball friend, had winners. When he found Flash, who was a large, bearded, and muscular African American man, he learned that there was a spot for him.
“We got a decent team,” Flash remarked. “Well, except for you.” He high-fived Jack to emphasize that he was kidding. “We also got David, Ron, and that new girl you brought around last night.”
“You mean Aretha?” Jack asked. He went up on his tiptoes, trying to find her.
“You got it,” Flash said. “She’s hot.”
“Where is she?” Jack asked.
“She’s over at the sandbox, talking to my squeeze,” Flash said, pointing.
Without a second’s hesitation Jack jogged over to the sandbox. As he approached, Aretha saw him coming and stood.
“Sorry to interrupt, Charisse,” Jack said. He had met Flash’s newest girlfriend on several occasions.
“No problem,” Charisse said. “We were just reminiscing about college days. You probably don’t know, but I also went to the University of Connecticut. Of course, I didn’t play basketball. I didn’t even try. I’d never have made the team.”
Jack looked at Aretha. She was dressed in the same well-fitting black top and matching black shorts she’d worn the previous evening. But tonight she had added a more colorful headband, wristband, and kicks. They were an electric yellow-green that elegantly set off the burnishedmahogany color of her skin. It was a striking and fun fashion statement. “You look terrific,” he said.
“Well, thank you, sir,” Aretha said brightly. “It looks like you could use a little help in that department.”
It was true. Jack’s aged workout togs were a hopeless mismatch of boring dark colors. He wasn’t even sure if his socks matched, and his sneakers looked worse for wear, with a visible hole on the outer side of the left one. When he’d been an ophthalmologist he’d cared about his clothes and shoes and even had several smart suits. But after the loss of his first family and after becoming a medical examiner and moving to New York City, he’d never given clothes much thought, especially when it came to exercise apparel. Seeing how put-together Aretha looked was a stimulus to make a little effort.
“This afternoon, just before you hung up, you enticed me to come out tonight by saying you had a surprise to tell me,” Jack said. “Well, I’m here. So what is it?”
“It’s about a piece of special equipment we have at the Public Health Laboratory. It’s called the MPS machine. Have you heard of it?”
“Can’t say I have,” Jack said.
“It stands for Massive Parallel Sequencing. It’s a technology that takes advantage of what is called high-throughput. It’s also called second-generation DNA sequencing.”
“You’ve lost me already,” Jack said. “Why is this a supposed surprise for me?”
“Because not everyone has access to it, including me,” Aretha said. “To use it, I had to put in a formal application, which I did yesterday. Today I learned I got permission.”
“I still don’t understand,” Jack said.
“I can use the MPS machine to determine the unknown virus,” Aretha explained. “In the past characterizing a new, unknown virus has been a laborious process. The MPS machine will do billions of short-segment DNA reads, which I can then run through BLAST.”
“It’s like you’re speaking to me in a foreign language,” Jack complained. “What the hell is BLAST?”
“Oh, sorry.” Aretha laughed good-naturedly. “I forgot you went to school in the previous century. BLAST stands for Basic Local Alignment Search Tool. It’s a bioinformatics software method for analyzing the billions of short segments of DNA produced by the MPS. It can search through an enormous database of known viral genomes for matches. That means that within days I could be able to identify our unknown virus. Without the MPS and BLAST, it could take literally weeks, even months.”
“Okay!” Jack said. “Wow! Now I get it. Sounds great. Obviously, the sooner we have a virus nailed down, the better.”
“That I am aware,” Aretha said. “As a backup I sent off a couple samples to Connie Moran, who heads up the viral pathogen discovery team at the CDC.”
“Uh-oh,” Jack said. He made a face, as if he were suddenly pained. He explained: “My boss, the chief medical examiner, specifically ordered me not to involve the CDC at this stage of this case.” He didn’t mention his boss was also his wife.
“Why not?” Aretha asked. She was surprised. “This is right up the CDC’s alley. They have a whole Department of Viral Diseases as well as a Respiratory Virus branch. This is what they do, and they are better at it than I.”
